Shattered Dreams
by ljp
Summary: Memories are stirred at the sight of an old photograph.


Shattered Dreams  
Written by LJP - CRHarmony@aol.com  
Rated PG  
Keywords: MSR  
Spoilers: None whatsoever.  
Summary: Memories are stirred at the sight of an old   
photograph.  
Author's Notes: I got an idea and went with it. This was   
written at one sitting, but I went on and revised it later.   
Thanks a bunch to Candice and Cindy for your help with the   
story. All feedback should be sent to CRHarmony@aol.com.   
Disclaimer: The X-Files belongs to Chris Carter, not me.   
Enough said?  
  
***  
  
The photograph showed a happy couple. It was framed in   
dark mahogany and lay on the mantle of her house. She went   
to it and just stared several times each day, trying to   
remember how it was, but not being able. Picking it up in   
her hand, she fought back a tear that was threatening to   
fall. It pained her to see them so happy. It pained her   
to know that, in the end, everything fell apart. It pained   
her to know that she'd never see their smiling faces again.  
  
The photo was clear and bright, almost as if it had been   
developed only days ago, when in fact it had been years.   
The man was taller than the woman, almost by a head and a   
half, and he was standing behind her, his arms wrapped   
around her waist. He had dark hair, and a lock of it had   
fallen into his eyes, but neither he nor she had time to   
move it before the picture was snapped. If it had been   
moved, the photo would have looked artificial, for the lock   
had always done that. His eyes were hazel, though the   
bright sunlight in the photo had caused them to seem green.   
He was smiling, a rare achievement for him, as his life had   
been pained and his face never bore the look of true   
happiness until that day. The woman he was with had red   
hair, cropped at her shoulders, and eyes like the ocean,   
blue and bright. Her skin was fair, a contrast to his   
darkness. She also smiled, though she had once had more   
practice than he.  
  
They were dressed for the picnic, him in his khakis and   
dark green polo shirt, her in a pale yellow sleeveless   
sundress. The wind had been blowing that day, and from   
looking at the picture, it was obvious by the way her dress   
flowed sideways, showing her white sandals. A golden   
necklace sparkled around her neck. They really were happy.   
Happy that they were together, without aliens or mutants or   
government conspiracies to keep them apart. Happy that   
they were free to love each other the way it had always   
been meant to be.  
  
But the happiness had been taken from them like a snap of   
the fingers...  
  
After everything they had been through together. After   
everything they had seen. After all the gunshots and the   
abductions and the hostage situations, it seemed impossible   
that one rainy night and a drunk driver could kill them.  
  
It was a cool night in March, only weeks past her birthday,   
which they had spent in the Caribbean celebrating. Dinner   
had been at her mother's that night. A late birthday   
treat. It wasn't terribly late at night, maybe around ten   
or eleven, but not past midnight. The rain had started   
only minutes ago, and he was driving at a safe speed. They   
talked in the car about birthdays and weddings and   
children. She said something funny and he turned to smile   
at her. When he looked back up, it had been just in time   
to see two headlights come blaring at them, swerving into   
them, and causing their car to soar over the embankment and   
into a ditch.  
  
The car that had hit them skidded sideways and came to an   
abrupt halt on the other side of the road. The driver was   
barely sixteen, only had his license for two months. The   
alcohol tests proved that he was well over the legal limit.   
He was in the hospital for a day with a mild concussion and   
a few scrapes and bruises. And he would spend the next   
year in a juvenile detention center. The punishment was   
not nearly severe enough for what he had done.  
  
It was later said that they hadn't felt a thing and that   
the impact had been so great that they had died instantly.   
The car was totaled and the bodies unrecognizable. The   
only identification were two wallets with government issued   
badges inside them. And a golden cross necklace that was   
found almost twenty feet from the wreckage. The funeral   
was held one week later.  
  
She replaced the photo on the mantle and brushed away the   
tear that had slid down her cheek. Reaching up the her   
throat, she gently touched the gold cross that now hung   
there, a memorial to the daughter she would never see   
again. Glancing up at the time, she knew she had to go.  
  
Within moments, she was there. The day was dark and   
gloomy, an eerie familiarity hung in the air. Her steps   
were slow and she reached the gravesight later than she had   
hoped. Falling to her knees, she wept for her children,   
who had died in an instant, from a stupid choice someone   
had made.  
  
Two roses were set on the ground under the tombstone, and   
through watery eyes she read the inscription for the   
thousandth time:  
  
"Here lies Fox William Mulder and Dana Katherine Scully.   
May they find their truths in heaven above. `Dreams are   
answers to questions we haven't learned how to ask.'"  
  
Finis 


End file.
